


The Runaway and The Accomplice

by words_reign_here



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, but - Freeform, plausible, this was kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:17:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5127329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_reign_here/pseuds/words_reign_here
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Done for a prompt in which Derek comes back to Beacon Hills for Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Runaway and The Accomplice

Stiles had forgotten how many times he had woken up in a hospital. The stitches, the concussions. The busted knee. The broken arm. He was twenty three years old for fuck’s sake and he was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to see thirty at this rate.

With the way his body was going to be, he wasn’t sure he wanted to make it that long.

The doctors warned him that any more head injuries could result in physical and emotional symptoms later on in life.

“Like what?” Stiles had asked. Scott was at his bedside now.

The doctor scratched his chin and glanced away from Stiles. “Confusion, headaches, nausea, depression, sleep problems and, if this keeps up, amnesia.”

Stiles nodded.

Scott gripped the edge of the blanket.

“So when do I get to blow this popsicle stand?” Stiles asked with a grin, showing the usual Stilinski optimism.

The doctor hummed and flipped through his chart. “I want to keep you one more night. Those ribs make me concerned.”

Stiles nodded and the doctor left. He was one of the nicer ones that Beacon Hills Memorial had.

“Stiles-” Scott started, already looking at him with the puppy dog eyes.

“Hey, buddy. I’m kind of feeling the pain meds. I think I’m going to turn in, ok?” Stiles made a big show of how tired he was. He yawned and started to stretch before he remembered his ribs.

“I could stay.” Scott said softly.

“No, go home. Kira is waiting. I’m just going to sleep.”

Still, Scott hesitated. “You sure?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles squeezed his arm. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

Scott nodded and when the door closed, Stiles grabbed his phone. He had turned it off and when he opened, he deleted the messages from the pack. Scott had already told them all. He smiled when he even saw one from Danny, offering help if he needed anything.

Buried in the depths of his messages was one from  _DeAnna_ . 

**It’s me. Let me know that you are ok. Don’t make me ask Scott.**

Then,

**Please, Stiles.**

Stiles looked at the last two words and sighed.

_I’m fine._ He said. 

**Good. Get some rest.**

Stiles nodded at the phone like  _DeAnna_ could see him and started to tuck the phone away. Then the doctor’s words came back to haunt him. 

Confusion.

Headaches.

Nausea.

Depression.

Amnesia.

Stiles stared up at the ceiling and he prayed that Scott had left the building because he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes.

He loved his friends, his pack. He loved Beacon Hills.

Stiles put his forearm over his eyes as the tears fell and took several deep breaths. He picked up his phone again and opened up  _DeAnna’s_ messages again. 

_It’s time._

There was a long pause before the phone buzzed in his hand.

** You have to be sure _._ **

Stiles had to swallow again, hard.

_I’m sure_ .

***

Stiles went home the following day with strict orders from the doctor to not do anything strenuous for at least a week. Stiles agreed to it.

He didn’t often stay at his house. More often, he could be found at Scott’s or Lydia’s places. It was too quiet since his dad was shot in the line of the duty two years previous. Nothing supernatural, just some guy hopped up on some kind horrible combination of drugs and alcohol.

Not that that stopped the pack from hunting him down and torturing him before they killed him.

The law was under the impression that the guy escaped when the van that transported him crashed and the doors opened. They hypothesized that he was in Mexico.

He wasn’t.

He was buried somewhere on the Hale land, according to Kira.

The pack wasn’t what they once were. Any kind of innocence they had had long ago been erased. Stiles didn’t know that he would feel so old at twenty-three.

Now, he was climbing the stairs to his old room where he was going to take an extra pain pill and then pass out for at least six hours. Until the nightmares woke him up.

***

When Stiles came to, his phone was blinking at him.

Three from Scott, asking if he needed anything, to check in, whatever.

One from  _DeAnna_ . 

**Do you still want to do this?**

Stiles picked up the phone with shaky hands. He needed to eat.

_Yes._

The phone was silent for a moment until:

**When?**

Stiles closed his eyes and counted.

_Two days._

**I’ll be there.**

***

The next day, he was at Scott’s. Melissa was there and made him eat an actual meal. Kira smoothed his hair away from his face and Scott sat next to him, not saying a whole lot.

Michael sat against Stiles, surprisingly still for a six-month-old baby. He listened to Stiles heartbeat and eventually fell asleep that way. Stiles followed suit and Scott took a picture.

Scott knew he was hiding something, but sometimes when it comes to Stiles, he had to be left alone before anyone could approach him about it.

When Michael woke up, he yawned and there was a slip of a claw and Stiles’ arm bled a little bit. He woke up with a gasp and pulled Michael close to him like he was about to fight something off.

Reality filtered into his eyes, piece by piece and Kira was there with some medical tape and gauze to bandage him.

There was something sad in Stiles’ eyes as he watched yet another bandage added onto his growing collection. Scott barely caught it and Kira missed it altogether.

“Just like his daddy. Doesn’t know his own strength.” Stiles said and laid a kiss on Michael’s dark hair. Michael nuzzled deeper into Stiles’ chest and that was all the apology he would ever need.

“Hey, you want us to come stay the night?” Scott asked suddenly, looking over at Kira. She followed his lead and nodded.

“Yeah, ice cream, pizza, the whole thing!” She added.

Stiles smiled slowly and Scott thought he was going to accept.

“No. I’ve got some papers I’ve got to grade and a few students that desperately need me to answer their questions. Another time.” He said quietly. He handed Michael over to Scott after a moment. He stood slowly, wincing at his new bandage and ribs. They walked Stiles out to his truck and Kira put leftovers that she packed for him into the driver’s seat. Stiles hugged Scott and kissed both Kira and Michael. He climbed behind the wheel gingerly and Scott and Kira watched him drive away.

“Is he ok?” Scott asked out loud.

Kira could only shake her head.

***

The next day, Stiles was shirtless on Lydia’s bed as Jackson loomed over him. His breathing was shallow and just this side of panting.

“Ok?” Lydia asked from somewhere around his hips. Stiles nodded and Jackson put a hand on his forehead and then his cheek.

“All right, close your eyes.” Jackson urged him and Stiles did as he asked. He felt Lydia lay her cold hands on his ribs and felt whatever magic she possessed snap his broken ribs back into place and heal them all at once. And although Jackson was pulling as much pain as he could away from Stiles, he still fainted.

When he came to, Jackson was still at his side, this time laying with his head propped up on his arm, watching Lydia’s oversized TV and eating a candy bar.

He gestured to the tv. Stiles turned his head to watch two men building a house.

“I think I want to build Lydia a house.” Jackson said thoughtfully. He offered a bite of his candy to Stiles who opened his mouth willingly. “How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Sore. Kind of tired.” Stiles probed his ribs. “She did a good job though. I’m all better.” He glanced around the room. “Where _is_ she?”

“Went to go get something for us to eat.”

Stiles nodded. He must have fell asleep; healing suddenly by Lydia’s magic wore him out. When she woke him up, she was leaning over him and smiling. “Hey.” She said softly. She kissed his forehead and he knew that she was checking his temperature.

“Hi.” He said.

“I got you soup. And a sandwich.”

Stiles smiled. “You are a goddess among mortals.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She said. She offered him a hand up and they made their way downstairs where Danny and Jackson were putting things out on the table.

“Look who finally got out of bed.” Danny said as Stiles sat down. Danny handed him a ginger ale and Stiles smiled.

“I’ve had a rough week.” He admitted. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He dug it out, thankful that his ribs didn’t scream every time he bent a certain way, and looked at it.

_DeAnna_

Stiles stuffed it back in his pocket.

“Who was that?” Jackson asked.

“Kira.” Stiles said with a shrug. “I forgot to check in with her this morning.”

The dinner continued on until late and when Stiles finally made it out to his truck, Lydia hugged him. “You don’t have to go, you know. We have the guest room ready for you.”

“It’s ok. I’ve got some students I have to get to.” Stiles said.

Jackson hugged him next. “Anytime, man. You come over anytime you want.”

Stiles hugged him back. “Thanks.” He said.

Danny stepped up next and kissed him. Stiles raised his eyebrows but leaned into it anyway. “Quit dying, you ass.” Danny said.

Stiles huffed a laugh and he climbed into his truck. He rolled down the window and winked at Danny. “I don’t know, keep kissing me like that…”

The three of them laughed and Stiles drove away.

“Did he seem ok to you?” Lydia asked.

Jackson shook his head. Danny looked worried.

***

At a stoplight, he finally checked his message.

**I’m here.**

***

Stiles drove past a sleek black car parked around the corner from his house, in the driveway of a house he knew had a For Sale sign on it when he left that morning. He parked in his own driveway and made his way up the stairs slowly. The door was opened and he let himself in.

In his room, Derek was sprawled out on his bed, breathing deeply. Stiles settled down at his desk and pulled out some paper.

 

_Scott,_

_I’m a coward. I know. I couldn’t tell you goodbye to your face, but you wouldn’t have let me go and I would have let you convince me to stay._

_That’s the thing, though, old buddy, old pal. You and me? We rush headlong into danger. We fight it tooth and nail to make sure that the world will be better for Michael and any future kitsune/alpha werewolves or banshee/witch/kanima that you guys might bring into the world._

_And that’s fucking noble._

_I know you can’t hear me, but that wasn’t sarcasm. You were the best friend I could have ever asked for. You did things for me that no one else would and you did them without thought of yourself. You are the best kind of person, Scott McCall. And I am a lucky bastard to have been your friend this long._

_But I’ve got to go now._

_I know you would say that I don’t have to, that I don’t have to be in the middle of every fight. But I do. If you are out there risking your life, I’ve got no right to do any less. So I’m going to go before this gets any worse._

_I knew the risks going in. I always knew that too many head injuries could lead to what the doc said. I knew that having my entire life populated with supernatural creatures could lead to death, but it’s a whole other option when you are looking down the barrel of the gun._

_Like I said._

_I’m a coward._

_I’m in good hands, though. I’m not alone. And I’m leaving the house and the truck to you. Take good care of it, man. All right? Let Mikey grow up in this place like we did. Make sure he finds his own Stiles, but hopefully one less breakable._

 

_You’re my best friend._

_You’re my brother._

_But you can’t come with me this time._

 

_I love you,_

_Stiles_

***

Stiles toed his shoes off and then pulled his shirt off. Derek opened one eye and then Stiles slung on leg over his hips and Derek opened his arms to him. Stiles fell down into him and rubbed his face into Derek’s chest.

“You changed fabric softener.” Stiles said.

“The other one reminded me of your dad.” Derek whispered.

Stiles nodded. It had been the last time that Derek had been in town. He helped the pack with the murder of the man who killed Sheriff Stilinski and before he left he stopped at Stiles’ house.

“ _If you need an out, I’m here. I can help.”_

“ _You make it sound like I need to escape an abusive relationship.”_

“ _Sometimes we don’t see the danger right in front of us for what it is.”_

“ _Did you replace Deaton with the cryptic sayings?”_

“ _Just keep it in mind.”_

And now here they were.

“The doctor said that all of this was going to-” Stiles stopped and shook his head. Derek ran a hand down his back.

“You don’t have to explain.” Derek said softly.

“I know. But I want to.” Stiles said.

“We’ve got a long drive ahead of us. There’s plenty of time.”

“Ok.” Stiles said.

He fell asleep on top of Derek, his breathing slow and even. Derek followed.

***

They left at two in the morning. Stiles took a few bags, but not much. Mostly mementos. Derek said there was plenty of work where they were going, that Stiles would have the chance at a job with no problems. Stiles suspected that Derek’s influence was involved with that.

Derek carried one bag and Stiles carried the other. Stiles slid into the passenger seat while Derek closed the trunk.

He paused, his hand on the car. There was a familiar smell and he tensed himself for a fight. But when he turned, at the end of the block, Scott stood motionless. His shoulders slumped and Derek could smell the misery wafting off of him.

Derek cocked his head at Scott, waiting for him to approach, to make a scene.

Instead, he shook his head but his words were clear as day in Derek’s ears:

“ _Thank you_. _”_

Derek nodded, just once, and went around the side of the car and got behind the wheel. He looked over at Stiles, the dark circles under his eyes and the bandage around his arm.

“You sure about this?” He asked.

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.” 

 


End file.
